


you ever almost get murdered and then kiss your murderer better? the equius zahhak story

by Dragoneisha



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Highblood Rages, Insanity, M/M, Redemption, Strength Kink, murderstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoneisha/pseuds/Dragoneisha
Summary: After the attempt on Equius and Nepeta's lives is thwarted, an unstable Gamzee retreats to nowhere, shutting himself off from everyone and everything. Equius, despite being almost murdered by the troll - or perhaps because of it - can't stop thinking about it. It's pathetic.He's pathetic.Gamzee is patheticromantically.Oh, shoot. (Pardon his language.)
Relationships: Gamzee Makara/Equius Zahhak, Nepeta Leijon/Equius Zahhak
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	you ever almost get murdered and then kiss your murderer better? the equius zahhak story

**Author's Note:**

> A delightful equius/gamzee fan requested this one for me, and janethekille is the reason this work exists. I have never written EquiGam before, but I'm glad I did. I'm proud of what I've written here and I hope you enjoy it too!

The strangeness of it is that he  _ doesn’t _ cry.

Everyone knows the highblood is unstable. The attempt on Equius’s life is a testament to that. He’s clearly shaken up by the whole ordeal - in his own, strange way, that is - and Equius had always known he was an easy crier. It was one of the more… pathetic things about him, to put it in a word. Not something highbloods did, but certainly something Gamzee would.

In another world, he would have. In a world long gone, as much as that hurts Equius to acknowledge, Gamzee would have huddled over his knees and cried like a grubling. But…. 

There’s a lot of strangeness to the moment after Equius catches his arm. It feels unreal, that he would break the bowstring. He snaps the strings of bows all the time, but this one had felt like iron in his palm, and he’s broken it anyway. He’d never had any problems breaking iron before, after all. It gets stranger when Nepeta, against his orders, leaps upon the back of the highblood, and something in him is just knocked away like dust off an untouched piece of machinery. It’s just gone.

And when he’s seen Gamzee like that before, he’s cried. But this time he doesn’t. This time… this time he just goes slack. As if his processors have been damaged. It’s ludicrous. Trolls don’t have processors. They aren’t hardware. But it’s the only words for it that Equius can find.

Words aren’t his strong point. He doesn’t linger on it as the troll collapses under the hissing, spitting weight of an oliveblood who’s never known how to listen, and instead just tries to keep her from killing him. He’s prevented his own death (what an odd thought) so it really isn’t that notable to prevent Gamzee’s. The action comes easily. 

Karkat comes screaming in, an amount of time that's uncountable later. Tavros and Terezi enter, too, and everyone is screaming, and Equius does everything he can to make everyone stop fighting. However, when Karkat demands he take Nepeta and go, he does without question. Nepeta had been trying to kill Gamzee again. He doesn’t mind stopping her.

However, Nepeta does.

“Get your paws off me!” she hisses. Were they not so dedicated to each other, Equius is sure she would have clawed his eyes out. He’d have suggested it in most cases, even. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone putting their graspers on Nepeta. The very idea chills him, especially after - “The little rat deserves it!!”

“While that may well be true, you and I both know that Karkat is currently the… de facto leader.” Equius can’t help but feel a little  _ less _ chilled at the prospect of following the orders of someone so much lower than him… but. He will. And he won’t say anything uncouth about it, because Karkat is a capable troll, even if he is unfortunately colored. And Equius likes him rather a lot. “And the highblood. Is not himself.”

“I thought you wanted him to purrform that way,” Nepeta sneers. A sharp jab, for certain. It’s deserved. 

He has to consider that before he has an answer. “I thought I did.”

Equius doesn’t elaborate - mostly because he doesn’t know what to say. Marshaling all his thoughts into a line is difficult, especially in a situation like this. 

“Meow did you find out mew didn’t?”

“I saw it for myself.”

As Equius leaves, Gamzee still has not begun to cry.

__

It isn’t hard to find the clown. Not for Equius. Everyone else seems to have a bit of a difficult time, including Kanaya, who would like to harm him, and Karkat, who would like to pap him. Equius just wants to see him.

So he goes where he thinks the highblood would hide, and he’s there.

It’s a room connected to the whole, sprawling mess of vents. A cursory glance reveals it to be a primitive cooling system, but the major fans have been twisted so only the slimmest trolls could manage to get through. It’s a show of strength that would impress anyone. That is, anyone but Equius. 

He tries to bend the fanblade as gently as possible, but, as metal does, the surface squeaks and trembles under his flat hand. He pushes it aside like curtaincloth. The place is dark. Quiet.

Red eyes glow in the darkness, and a snarl rips through the air. Equius jerks back as a long, skinny arm bursts past the fanblades, clawing at the air. The sharp edges of the metal panels blocking the rest of Gamzee’s headlong charge cut into his fragile flesh, and a few drops of indigo spill. Equius feels his pusher in his throat. Maybe it’s nausea, after a second thought.

He can only see one eye through the warped metal, and his bright teeth shine in the dim light. Equius stays far enough away to keep himself out of Gamzee’s considerable reach. Wicked claws grasp at the air, and Equius watches them, some horrible, tentacled beast squirming in the air. It’s… slightly erotic.

Equius shivers. Gamzee’s eyes narrow (well, the one Equius can see certainly does. He assumes the other one does as well, especially because the highblood can’t wink.

“Highblood,” he says, raising his chin in not-quite-submission. “I came to assess your condition.”

Slowly, the troll draws back. His eyes, still burnt sienna, reflect light faintly from the warped metal. Even as he settles far in the back once more, those reddened eyes still shine.

“A rage isn’t supposed to last this long,” he says, quietly. He’s always quiet, but in this room (when did he step inside?) even the slightest breath echoes loud as thunder. “You aren’t raging.”

“Get the mother  _ fuck outta here. _ ”

His voice is ragged and raw. It pitches up and down, wild and unstable, all mesas and valleys. It was wilder, when he was making an attempt on Equius’ life. It was wildest when he’d laughed, just before Nepeta hit him with all the force of a speeding scuttlebuggy and seemed to knock all the pain and anger out of him. Something twinges in Equius’ chest.

He leans in, just slightly, past the fan. His calves are tense, toes curled so their nearly rupture his cleats.

“Is that an order?”   
“ **GO!** ”

The force of it startles him, but Equius doesn’t stumble. He simply steps back - one step. Two. He pulls closed the plane of metal that separates Gamzee from the rest of them, and quietly, he departs. 

__

For nights after, the encounter plagues him. Equius doesn't stay up looking at the ceiling, thinking about it. But he does think about it. As he gets ready to sleep, soporless. As he works. As he trolls the humans. 

Sometimes his nightmares feature Gamzee - but not as an antagonist. Equius has already bested him. As far as he's concerned, there's nothing to fear.

In dreams, Gamzee cowers from himself.

Equius breathes out, soft and quiet, as he stands at the edge of the fan room. There's a bar over its plating now. He looks through it.

Gamzee’s eyes glow, still. They're settled in the vague area of where Equius stands. Gamzee’s always had big ears, and a highblooded awareness of himself - when it wasn’t dulled with sopor, that is. Equius’ approach had likely been heard.

“Good evening, highblood,” Equius greets. There is no reply. Instead of letting that dissuade him, he reaches through to break the bar with no more than a twitch of his fingers. Metal is stronger than wood, but it takes little to move aside the fan-blade next. It moves like fabric must for weaker trolls. Equius wonders what that feels like.

Gamzee shows his fangs. Equius enters anyway, one hand under a platter of small meats and plastic-wrapped food that had been scienced up by the card experts. Equius prefers to let others deal with the preparation of food. He’s happy to serve it.

“I don’t fuckin’  _ want you here, _ stupid ass,” Gamzee says. It’s less speech and more feral rattle. Equius watches him fold his arms over his scrawny chest. Undernourished at best - starving at worst. Equius isn’t exactly an optimist. “ _ The fuck you think _ you’re doin’ in ‘ere. I’ll  _ kill you. _ ”

“You can try.”

His firmness shocks Equius as much as it does Gamzee. He hadn’t thought himself capable of such things. Not to the highblood. Especially not after his… murderous display. But Equius did, and he will do so again. He knows it deep in his soul that if he needs to, he will stand up once more to the troll who tried to kill him.

He kind of likes that feeling.

Gamzee rattles out another growl at him, but Equius approaches fearlessly. He is not fearless, of course. This is a very upsetting situation. He is, in fact, sweating (not that this is particularly out of the ordinary for him).

Equius sets the platter in front of Gamzee, a good body’s length away, and makes sure never to lower his horns. He can’t make eye contact through his sunglasses, even as cracked as they are, so that’s not difficult to avoid, either. What else? What else is there. Equius is, for a highblood, remarkably even-keeled, and hasn’t actually experienced the rage they’re so known for. Sure, he breaks things, and he’s perfectly capable of getting angry, but a full-blown feral rage isn’t exactly his style.

Of course, this isn’t a full-blown feral rage, either. Gamzee is all cold fury and irrational aggression. No rage he’s ever heard of manifests like this. Which, of course, is why Equius has brought him something to eat.

It isn’t good food. It isn’t even okay food, if he’s being honest. The food is not very tasty, and it barely supplies the nutrients needed for growing trolls such as themselves. But Equius knows for a fact that it’s better than whatever Gamzee has eaten, which he fears may be nothing at all.

The platter rattles, faintly, as Equius sets it down with as much gentleness as he can muster. The thin metal still crumples slightly under one thumb, but it doesn’t break completely. 

Gamzee, however, doesn’t seem to share the same opinions. He snarls, smacking the platter out of Equius’ hand, and roars at him to get out. Equius does, but it won’t be for long.

He’ll try again. It’ll work next time.

It has to.

__

Well, it doesn't quite work next time. Or the one after that. But Equius has never been very good at taking a hint, and he's stubborn as a her of glorious, rippling musclebeasts, so a little snapping and hissing isn't exactly going to scare him off.

It is the fifth time he goes that Karkat is there. 

There's no words - just a few quiet shooshes, the occasional pap. Equius feels terribly voyerusistic as he looks upon it. He trembles as Karkat’s hand strokes through Gamzee’s ratty, matted hair. A tangle is undone with a softness Equius has never been able to manage. Gamzee’s trouble brow smooths, and something knots one Equius’ chest. Is he jealous or lonely? Whatever it is, a brief thought of Nepeta is enough to dissuade the notion. He has a perfectly good moirail. It's just…

It's just the way Karkat takes care of him, Equius realizes. It's the way he can touch the ragged, feral beast that was once a troll.

Karkat turns when Equius, very subtly, wrenches metal out of the way to allow himself inside. Gamzee doesn't stir.

They look at each other, for a long moment. Karkat looks like he may want to reach for his sickles. Overall, not a good start.

“You're not allowed in here.”

“I will do him no harm.” Equius moves to set down what is basically a charcuterie board of cheap snacks. “I'm here to check on him, just as you are.”

“It's not him I'm worried about, shithead.”

Equius holds his tongue instead of offering a lecture on the crass, and fairly inappropriate, language. Karkat may be leader, but it's just them here, and he knows Equius doesn't like it. It would not inconvenience him  _ that _ much to clean up his act a little. 

He steps back, crossing his arms, and lifts his chin, attempting to project easy confidence. It isn’t’ something he’s good at. He can feel sweat trickling down his back, dripping off his angled elbows. The feeling freaks him out. It makes him sweat more, so his shirt sticks to his chest, his shorts to his thighs. “I.” A breath. “I will stand up for myself.”

Karkat looks at him - really looks at him. He sneers, a little, but even Equius can tell his heart isn’t in it.

“Well, do it another time, you damp dingleberry.” Karkat looks down. “I just got him to sleep.”

“Noted.”

He stands there a moment longer. Karkat picks up a cracker and quietly unwraps it, other hand still busying itself in Gamzee’s hair. The motions are soft. Clearly caring. 

When Equius does leave, he has the feeling he’s seen something very secret, and very special. Obviously, he must go to Nepeta about this.

__   
“And it was furry cute?” Nepeta asks, sprawled over his lap. Her coat fans out over her, up to her knees, which are cocked so her booted feet are in the air. She’s slipped her arms out of the sleeves to scrawl more efficiently in a little notebook. Nepeta uses it so she doesn’t have to pull Equius through tight spaces to update her shipping wall. It was his suggestion, and it makes him feel very fluffy in his stomach when he sees her use it.

“I am not an expert, but it would behoof me to call it cute, yes,” he agrees, tinkering, quietly, with a metal plate he’d accidentally bent completely out of shape. The good thing about metal is it’s never really  _ broken _ . Even if it tears or rends, it can always be resmelted and remade. Sometimes into something new - others into the same thing again. An efficient, useful creation. No wonder it’s Equius’ favorite. 

Nepeta squeals, kicking her legs. Her tail flicks back and forth, tapping against the outside of Equius’ meaty palm. “How exciting! I only know this is canon beclaws of you, you know. This kind of happawning is really rawr!”

“Rawr.”

“Rare, silly.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “Come on, I’ve used that one befur.”

“I’m sorry. I must not have remembered it.” He reaches to touch her, as gently as possible, on the small of her back, before lifting his hand back to the crimped metal. “I’m distracted.”

Nepeta’s pupils thin to razors. “Is this about your crush?”

Ah. The metal has been obliterated. It looks rather more like a spitball than a plate, and he was getting so far along, too.

“I… don’t see how this is relevant.”

“Please. You tail me efurything! I know a redcrush when I see one, Equihiss. Admit it, you think Gamzee’s pawthetic and you wanna hold him and groom him and make him alllll sappy -”

Equius would muzzle her if he wouldn’t shatter her face into sharp, unpleasant sharps. Instead, he drops one of the pelts she’d saved for their pile on her head. The little beast he calls his moirail rockets backwards like she’d been kicked, and he attempts to sneak out before she stops pawing at her nose and hair, which she doesn’t like rumpled when she isn’t rumpling it.

Unfortunately, she is Nepeta. “Don’t think you can scampurr off, kittle mouse! I can see you!”

He continues scampering.

“Equihiss. You turn around right meow.”

He scampers regardless, feeling rather like a scolded grub, and she scampers yowling after him.

She does, indeed, catch him, but he attempts and walk through a wall to lose her first. It doesn’t work, but it does put a hole in the wall.

__

The place is, at least, lit when Equius returns. Gamzee still rattles out an unpleasant hiss at the sight of him, but Equius sits in front of him without any real fear.

“You would have killed me already if you wanted to, highblood.”

A fat purple tongue swipes over massive, uneven teeth.

“Y’sound pretty  _ fuckin’ sure.” _ Gamzee leans forward, one shoulder up by his ear, the other slanted awkwardly down, halfway to his ribcage. “ _ Are you willing _ to bet your  _ motherfucking life _ on that? ‘Cause I ain’t, brother.”

Equius settles his hands on his crossed shins. “I’m sitting here. That should be answer enough.”

He can’t help but notice, as orange-rimmed eyes rove his sweaty, cool body, that Gamzee’s eyes have begun to fill in with his adult color. It’s a little premature. Even Tavros has a third of a sweep to go before his eyes start showing his color, but Gamzee is showing early. It may be some effect of all the sopor he guzzled down in his youth. Is his lifespan shorter? Is his body reacting to too much of a chemical meant to sedate and soothe? When did he have it last, Equius wonders?   
“Shouldn’t make that  _ bet, bluebro, _ ” Gamzee snarls. Equius has enough presence of mind to duck away from Gamzee’s lunge, but this time, he does not retreat. “I made it  _ fucking crystal clear _ I want you dead!”

“No,” Equius says, with unearned determination. “You made it clear you wanted to kill me. Those are not the same.”

Gamzee nearly roars at him. A lesser troll would have quailed - would have turned and run. Equius would not even have judged them for it. Equius is not a lesser troll. He is Equius, and he is not afraid.

Gamzee hunches, rolling to his feet. Equius stands, too. He’s brave, but he isn’t stupid. He should stand to be able to move, if he needs to. As confident as he is that his life isn’t forfeit, Gamzee’s made it perfectly clear that he would like to do Equius harm. It’s his responsibility to not let that happen. 

Gamzee circles him. Equius turns to face him, no matter what direction Gamzee wants to come from. He levels predator’s eyes at Equius, fangs bared, graspers curled into hooked claws. His hair hangs over his face, blocking much of him from view.

“I don’t care how much you would like me to leave,” Equius says, firmly. “I am not going to.”

“And what  _ if I kill you? _ What then, motherfucker?  _ Is that what _ you want me to  _ do? Because I will.” _

“I know you want to try. I don’t think you want to succeed.”

Gamzee freezes. Something familiar lingers in his eyes. Behind the broken porcelain of that orange-sierra sclera, a troll who Equius had always been ashamed of looks back at him, and Equius feels a very particular guilt about it all. Gamzee had never deserved what Equius stacked on his shoulders. Was that part of what broke him, in the end? Drove him to this insanity? Is some of the fault on Equius?

He pushes those thoughts aside as Gamzee shivers, as one would when it’s cold. He folds his arms over his skinny chest, shoulderblades poking out so far his shirt droops between them like a hammock. It is so hot in here Equius is sweating even worse than usual. He cannot imagine what would make Gamzee shake like that.

“Hey, man,” Gamzee says, with the strange mirthless tone that never really sounded like Gamzee, “sopor don’t  _ fuckin’ work, man. _ Don’t make nightmares go nowhere  _ either. It never stops being a nightmare, bluebro. _ ”

He’s getting somewhere. Equius lets out a relieved breath.

“Try eating,” he suggests. “I am no pale creature for you, but you could still use it.”

Gamzee settles down. Those feral, animal eyes do not lose their sharpness, but their danger is directed at a cream-filled snack Gamzee begins dissecting with one long, uneven claw. 

__

It becomes clearer, as Gamzee makes space in his life for Equius, that he is well and truly fucked.

The troll is unstable. The troll is far, far past unstable. He speaks to no one, he shakes himself apart, and he digs his own claws into his arms, rending his own delicate flesh for no reason other than he can. When he’s too far gone, even the presence of Equius doesn’t stop him. Karkat can, though. That’s… that’s good. At least Karkat can stop him.

Gamzee hasn’t let Equius touch him yet. He doubts it’ll happen, realistically, but his traitorous pusher makes him hope for it. He wants to hold one long-fingered hand in his own without splintering fingers and breaking off claws. Gamzee’s strong, and the strange not-rage he’s in has stiffened much of his body. Maybe Equius would even be able to touch him. Feel him. Do -

Anyway. 

They don’t talk much. Gamzee talks, sometimes raving about nothing and everything, sometimes mostly growls, but Equius is a very good listener. He’s even started bringing in some projects, so he can sit in silence with the highblood without having to just stare at the wall. Or at Gamzee, which is slightly less appropriate.

No, it’s not appropriate to think the constantly-raging highblood on the brink of sanity is attractive, but frankly, Equius has never been appropriate, and Gamzee’s feral strength is an incredible look on him. He’s always had a little bit of a thing for him, but this made it much worse. What does it say about Equius that getting almost murdered fostered an instant crush?   
Well. Equius knows what Nepeta says. She think it’s the best thing since sliced grub. Star-crossed lofurs, she calls it. Well, there’s only one lover, for one, and for two, they are on the same meteor. (He gets it, he just refuses to entertain the notion. His pusher can’t take it.)   
It’s in a moment like that that it happens. As Equius works, he finds himself missing a wrench. Where’d that get to? He was just holding it. The struggle of misplacing something you were just using is a truly trollian experience that even Equius is not spared. 

Something is pushed into his hand. Equius accepts it and begins using the wrench without thought, before he realizes he did not grab it, and someone must have given it to him. Startled, his eyes find the hunched, silent form of Gamzee, his arm still extended.

“Don’t,” he orders, before Equius can say a word. “Don’t  _ motherfuckin’ mention it _ .”

So he doesn’t. But the way Gamzee almost smiled will stick in his head for a long time after.

They’re quiet, after that little experience, but Equius feels a strange new bond between them, made real by the way Gamzee’s eyes keep lingering on him. It’s a weight, less like a burden and more like a blanket. He rests against the wall, working his wrench with the occasional squeak of stripping threads or twisting metal, and both trolls work in silence - one to fix a robot, the other to fix his mind.

__

“I wanna kill you.”

Equius opens his eyes.

The night is dark, but trolls are nocturnal. It’s nothing to wait for dark adaptation to take over. The angles and jagged lines of Gamzee’s face come slowly into view, looming far above, from a vent cover he’d kept unlocked.

“I wanna  _ slit your motherfucking throat, _ bro,” Gamzee says. Equius, exhausted, can’t help but watch the way his mouth and throat move with the threat. His eyes are unfocused, but he still seems terrifyingly present. 

“... No,” Equius says, after a long moment. He rolls onto his side and pulls the thin blanket up over his body once more. “You don’t.”

“Didn’t I just _ say I wanted to _ ? You stupid little bluewhore. Talkin’  _ shit with that slimy mouth _ .” 

“If you wanted to kill me,” Equius snaps, irritated at being woken up, “I would be dead.” He yanks the blanket over his shoulders, which only tears it a little.

“... Huh?”

Gamzee clambers out of the vents, the metal squeaking with the shifting of his body weight. Equius doesn’t open his eyes. This is his room. If Gamzee tries anything, he’ll end up getting punched through the wall, and while he’ll survive it just fine, it sure won’t feel very good.

Equius can feel the lanky cool of him lean over his used-to-be-slumbering form. This is some real horseradish. He reaches out from under the blanket and presses his hand, as gently as he can, to Gamzee’s chest.

“While I respect your bloodlust,” Equius says, pragmatic and firm, “if you really wanted me to be dead, you wouldn’t have woken me up to do it. What you want is to harm and see fear inspired in others. This is something I do not appreciate, and do not experience.” He sits up, a little groggy, but awake enough to handle this. “You’ve come out of your cage to do this, so it means a lot to you, but I am very tired and I don’t feel like it right now. If you want to try and kill me, you should have done it while I was asleep, because I am not going to let you.”

Gamzee gawks at him, swaying, slightly, against his hand. Something in his eyes just… stops. Like a candle being snuffed out. Equius readies himself to fight, but instead, Gamzee just… collapses. Right onto his knees, like his strings have been cut, or his processing has overheated. Equius’ hand is left holding nothing at all.

“Okay,” he says, a little quiet. “Okay. I can  _ do a li’l bitta waitin’.  _ I got time.”

It takes a moment to process that. When he does, Equius sighs, quietly, as some of the tension is ebbed from the room. While he is perfectly confident in his physical strength, his emotional is currently overburdened, at its complete limit. He’s happy to get a little more sleep. “Thank you.”

Equius is back in his flat, cushy recuperaslab when Gamzee speaks again. “Lemme touch y’.”

Okay. What.

“Hm.”

“Wanna… I can’t sleep without  _ holding onto a motherfucker, _ man. Lemme touch your arm or _ some shit, selfish prick. _ ”

He lets that slide out of sheer exhaustion alone, but in the end, Equius does slip his arm out of the blanket, and long, crooked fingers do rest against it, just as he’s drifting off to sleep.

Equius dreams of blissful nothing.

__

Gamzee is still there when Equius wakes. He’s asleep, though - brow wrinkled,lip curled into a sleepy show of fang. 

However, Nepeta is also there. Which is less than ideal.

“So,” she says, tail flicking only at its very tip, “you have a new coonbuddy, I see.”

“We have talking to do, and I am not in a coon, technickerly.”

Equius cannot escape the squint of Nepeta’s eyes. Nepeta sneaks in close, and her tongue rasps roughly over his brow.

“You know what I meyawn.” She hums, moving to climb into the entrance Gamzee used - that is, the vent. “He’s waking up. Talk as you purrlease. He kneads it.”

The tip of Nepeta’s tail disappears into the vents as Gamzee’s eyes open - kind of red, kind of orange. He pushes his forehead into Equius’ arm, ears flaring out from under his fresh-combed hair. He must have gotten with Karkat before coming to him. Gotten freshened up.

Equius shifts aside. Gamzee enters the bed just as easily as he entered Equius’ room, slowly, and with the fluidity of water. He’s close to a seadweller, but, crucially, he isn’t. In some ways, Equius can see how Gamzee straddles that divide. It’s… pretty shocking sometimes. 

“Why are you here.”

A pause.

“.. Missed ya.” a shrug. “Y’weren’t in  _ my little hidey-hole. _ So I came t’look fer  _ yer dumb ass.” _

Equius hums, faintly. Sweat begins to build where Gamzee starts leaning on him - so light, and so heavy at the same time.

“I wasn’t aware you wanted my company.”

“ _ It isn’t the point.  _ Chill the fuck out. I ain’t  _ gonna be some kinda sappy fucker. _ ”

Equius looks at Gamzee, and Gamzee looks at Equius. An ear flicks, and his hair bounces. “I don’t expect that,” Equius says. “But I would like you to be honest with me.”

“Okay.  _ I wanna hurtcha.” _ Gamzee says it like it’s obvious. “I wanna hurt  _ everybody all the time. _ I get mad an’ I jump to  _ hurtin’. I get sad  _ and I wanna break shit t’stop it. I am  _ hurtin’ an’ I wanna hurt people. _ ”

Equius looks at him. Gamzee pants, a little off-kilter, and cocks his head.

“... Okay,” he says, finally. “Don’t.”

“Huh.”

“Don’t do it. It doesn’t seem to matter to me if you want to hurt me, because you haven’t. You tried, and you didn’t. So as long as you continue not doing it, we have no problems.”

“But I  _ want _ to.”

“If I did everything I wanted to, I would not have a moirail, nor any friends. Neigh, I would have very little.” He tilts his head, just a bit. “You will have to keep control of yourself. But I am sure you can. As long as you behayve… we can work this out. Nepeta accepts you. I as well, and Karkat. Others will come to it.” His hand rests, ever so gently, against Gamzee’s skinny waist. “We will manage it.”

Gamzee kisses him. All teeth and shaky breaths and sudden, uncertain fear. And Equius closes his eyes, and kisses back.

__ 

The highblood sneaks into his room on the regular. Equius finds himself subconsciously making room, and Gamzee ends up taking it. He fills in the empty spaces in Equius’ life almost without trying. Genuinely? It's maybe one of the better things to happen to him. Even if he did have to be almost murdered for it.

Is that strange? It kind of strikes Equius as strange.

Gamzee fills empty spaces. Sometime he rages, and sometimes he snaps, but most of the time, he is simply a welcome presence in Equius’ room.

This time, Gamzee’s body curls, skinny and sharp, against Equius’ bare back. The heat and his habit of sweating means that he works without a shirt on occasion. Gamzee’s arms are looped casually around Equius’ waist, a belt of trollflesh that occasionally stabs Equius in the hip with long, ragged claws. Ostensibly, this is not on purpose. Equius doesn’t mind even if it is. A few scratches are nothing. It reminds him that Gamzee is there.

However, he’s very aware Gamzee is there. Hot breath keeps flowing over his ears, and Equius - well. He’s. He has his needs. He can feel the slightly-warmer body pressed against him, and when Gamzee shifts forward, his lips just barely brush Equius’ ear, in a way that makes him shiver. Frankly, it makes him sweat.

It is intentional, Equius realizes, when Gamzee nips at his ear, like he’s trying to pull open a packet of sauce with his teeth. Equius just barely keeps from demolishing his ribs with a well-placed elbow.

“Gamzee.” Equius does his best to keep his voice low. “You are playing a very dangerous game.”

“Nah, motherfucker,  _ I’m just pushin’ buttons. _ You wanna play, that’s  _ on you. _ ” Equius can feel him smile against his pointed ear. Hair sticks to the back of his neck, both Gamzee’s and his own. They’re so… close. 

Metal crumples in Equius’ hand. He turns, planting one hand on either side of Gamzee’s scrawny waist, the breadth of his shoulders pushing the other troll just slightly away as Equius breaks his grip. He doesn’t like eye contact, but for this moment, it is necessary.

“You know what you are doing,” he says.

Gamzee just grins his sleaziest possible grin. He knows. It is, as Equius guessed, on purpose.

The smaller troll bounces slightly as he hits the mattress, and Equius is as gentle as he can e when he leans to kiss him. This feels… right. His body over Gamzee’s, skinny-fingered hands curling against his shoulders, a tongue - oh, boy, a tongue in his mouth. If he so much as twitches, he’ll bite it off.

Gamzee seems to know that, too, and he seems to try to bait it out, the heel of his hand pressing against the underside of Equius’ jaw. His big, too-skinny body arches up under Equius, but fails to budge him at all. It seems to please him, if the feel of his bulges unsheathing against Equius’ thigh is any indication.

“You,” pants Equius as he pulls away, sweating buckets, as crass as the phrase is, “are quite. Ready for this. Aren’t you?”

“Been  _ thinkin’ about your fat fucking bulge _ since you started getting  _ handsy.  _ It’s your motherfucking fault, not wearin’ nothing but scraps while I’m in here. Lemme at you,  _ brother. _ ”

Equius sits up, and Gamzee attempts to follow him, but a hand on his chest keeps him fairly well pinned down. Gamzee snarls, offended, but Equius is already working off his bottoms, ears back.

“Quiet,” he asks more than orders. “I am trying to give you what you want.”

He is not quiet. Equius didn’t know what he expected. After a brief struggle, Gamzee is divested of his clothes at well, and he sticks himself to Equius’ front like rust on iron, barely able to tell one from the other. His bulge is skinny, but long. Equius would likely be gawking at it if they weren’t already pressed to each other. 

His own bulge pushes against Gamzee’s leg, and he feels him wince. It’ll likely bruise. To keep safe, Equius puts his hands on the platform. He definitely wouldn’t be able to keep from hurting Gamzee if he put his hands on him like this. Especially when he arches back like that, reaches down to catch Equius’ bulge in a few fingers - his tip finds Gamzee’s nook, and Equius curls his fingers into the platform as his bulge finds the nook. He begins to pant, feeling the slightly-warm pressure of Gamzee’s slick nook around him. It’s so lewd, so unclean, the noises he makes as he bulge squirms inside - he nearly crumples. Like wet paper.

Gamzee’s eyes are rolled back, and he starts grinding down, settling so his knees rest on either side of Equius’ hips. Equius jerks underneath him, rocking up, and the highblood jerks like he's been struck. His nook clenches, rippling around Equius’ bulge. 

The feeling is like nothing else. He groans, just barely keeping from fucking into him so hard he hits the ceiling.

“Gamzee,” Equius breathes, voice shaking. “Agh - Gamzee.”

Gamzee leans to rub his face into Equius’ neck, face slick against the sweat in his collarbones and over his throat. He licks, nibbles, growls.

Equius can't keep his hands off him. He reaches to grab Gamzee’s hips, but remembers himself - he hoverhands, briefly, panting with his eyes all over the troll. 

Gamzee grabs at his wrist, snarling a little. His eyes flash a little orange. “Don't you  _ cower from me, motherfucker _ . I couldn't take it I wouldn't  _ take it. _ ”

Well. Who is he to deny him? Equius takes his skinny hips in hand, fingers dimpling his flushed skin. His bulge lashes inside Gamzee, and Gamzee’s own curls around his base, leaving highblood-purple prematerial trails over Equius’ flushed skin. Equius uses his grip to keep Gamzee in place as he rocks up into him. Their slow, strong grind is the height of pleasure. Gamzee’s wet nook is tight and sweet around him, and the rough, ragged sounds he makes may as well be music. Equius is consumed with lust. 

Gamzee’s voice gets reedy and raw. He tilts his head back, exposing his long neck, and Equius takes advantage of it. He leans to bite into his shoulder, and Gamzee’s voice cracks as he comes. Material is spilled over Equius’ thighs, painting him with Gamzee’s color. It sends Equius over the edge, and he pumps material into and over Gamzee, shuddering underneath him. To his own humiliation, he swears as he does it.

They pant there, Gamzee’s concave stomach a little pouchy from material, and Equius peels his sticky fingers away from Gamzee's skin. He's already starting to bruise.

“ _ Hell _ yeah, brother,” Gamzee says, shortly collapsing against his chest. “I'm gonna  _ pass the fuck out. _ ” 

“We're a mess, highblood. Get up.”

There is no response.

“... Highblood?”

Equius sits there for nearly an hour, and when he does finally rouse Gamzee, he has to carry him to take ablutions due to his sore… General area. 

Equius doesn't mind at all.

__

Gamzee is never fixed.

He isn’t a robot to be repaired. Nor is he a piece of cloth to be sewn back together - a smeared word to erase and rewrite. He is a troll, and he has been hurt, and he has done hurt just as much.

But he is managing his problems. He doesn’t tear himself apart anymore. It’s rare that he wakes up screeching and howling like a rabid beast, though occasionally, it does happen. When it does, Equius and Karkat and even Nepeta can calm him down. When he needs to fight, or yell, or scream, Equius can weather his blows, and Nepeta is happy to scrap with him if it means her moirail is happy (and she gets to sate a little bloodlust too.) Gamzee isn’t very good at gossip, but he’s fantastic at keeping secrets, and Equius is sure Nepeta is telling him all of hers. 

No, he is never fixed, and he is never normal. But he is soothed, and he is helped, and he is Gamzee, and Equius loves him for it.


End file.
